The Prince: Out of Darkness
by imirie-kimmingwie
Summary: An alternate universe story. Harry/Hermione. See inside for the specifics of the universe. In short, Harry is bestowed with a task that no other wizard has before been given. Will living up to the challenge be a difficult and lonely journey?
1. Introduction

Title: The Prince Out of Darkness

Author: Imirie

Genre: Alternate Universe, Romance, Adventure

All details concerning Alternate Universe are as follows:

Lily Evans was born a pure-blood witch and, very early in life, met Severus Prince who lived quite close to her. They became very good friends upon entering Hogwarts, even though Severus went into Slytherin and Lily into Gryffindor. For years, Severus and James Potter, a Muggle-born, fought for Lily's affections while Sirius Black and Remus Lupin looked on, amused (both boys on fairly good terms with Severus because of their friendship with Lily). The summer between their sixth and seventh year, Severus foolishly left Lily to find her own companionship while he allowed his single mother to drag him to Germany for vacation. But when he returned for the seventh year, he'd grown and evened out, cut his hair, and looked more well kempt than he ever had before. That was all the push Lily needed. She chose Severus.

Severus is a decent man, for a Slytherin, anyway. He's stern and disciplines much, but he's smart and very cunning and a clever eye for Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He was hired as the Potions professor shortly after his son, Harry, is born. Because of his closeness to Dumbledore and participation in the Order of the Phoenix, he's forced to do some dealings with James Potter, which suits neither of their liking.

We join their story in the midst of Harry Carson Prince's fifth year at Hogwarts, where much more is happening than he or anyone else quite realize. A new dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, is quickly rising to fearsome power by invading the Ministry of Magic and hoping to take over and change the laws to suit pure-bloods and cleanse the wizarding world of Muggle-borns. To Harry's shock, and that of his friends, their time at Hogwarts will prove to be more enlightening and challenging than they could have ever predicted. By Christmas, every man, woman, and child in the wizarding world will know his name and must decide whether to fear or trust him, or believe him in general. Fifteen year old Harry must prove to himself, as well as everyone else, why he is the answer to their suffering.

But Harry, in the midst of all this, is confronted with challenges himself. He was placed in Gryffindor, like his mother, while his father is head of Slytherin. And though his father does not participate in the dark arts (choosing rather to arm children in defending themselves against it), Harry finds himself the center of ridicule that entices him to fiddle with the dark arts and ultimately make the choice inside himself to fight against it, or let himself become seduced by the powers and wonders Lord Voldemort offers. And, to everyone's astonishment, Harry is very uniquely different from every other witch or wizard alive today or in all of history. Was he chosen? Or is this his destiny?

Continue on to chapter one! And please review, it will make me more inclined to update. If you have any specific questions about facts in this alternate universe, ask and I will try to answer them, but read a few chapters first to see if they're answered. Most of it will come over time of course. (I know this is probably way too much information, but...first fic, you know). Thanks so much!

Imirie 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Platform 9 ¾ 

London found itself in the middle of an elongated rainstorm when September first rolled around. The streets were almost ankle deep in water, rushing ferociously into the sewers and lakes and rivers. People covered their heads in anything they could spare when they traveled from car to building, or building to car, though it was no use. The rain seemed as prevalent as air, and as nasty as a zit, always there right when one needs to go out in public.

Lily Prince sat in the back of a cab with her son, Harry, now fifteen. His owl, Hedwig, dozed peacefully between them. He was a tall and thin young boy, a face long and pallid like his father's, but had the broad shoulders of his Grandfather Evans and Lily's incredible, piercing green eyes. He kept his black hair short, which caused it to stand on end, like he'd just been electrocuted, or been scared out of his clothing. It made him look older than fifteen, and younger, nearly at the same time. Hermione said it looked something like a crown, appropriate to a last name fashioned out of a royal title. 

Harry gazed out the window, neither distressed nor pleased with the rain, but drumming his hands as though he was looking far beyond the rain, like he was looking into a future moment when he could live out something inside his head. He could see his mother's reflection in the mirror and knew she was staring at him, but refused to acknowledge it. She always acted strange right before he left for school. His father left nearly a week ago and she would be alone, again, until Christmas. Of course it must be hard on her, but he didn't really see why it was any problem of his, or why he should give his mother attention when she didn't say anything. She just sat and stared. He wasn't going to interrupt.

"What are you thinking about?" Lily finally asked. She reached up and fixed Harry's collar. He looked at her and didn't protest about her fiddling.

"Just...school," he said, vaguely. "I take my O.W.L.'s at the end of the year, you know. It's pretty cool."

Lily smirked. "Cool, huh? You think taking those tests will be cool?"

Harry shrugged. "I know they're supposed to be bloody difficult," he said, reaching up to scratch his nose. "But they'll tell me if I'm wasting my time, or if I've actually got a chance in the real world." Hedwig hooted softly, waking from her slumber like she understood Harry, and the cab driver looked suspiciously through his rear view mirror.

Lily smiled warmly and put a hand on Harry's face. He returned the smile, only half feeling like it was more than a facial movement. "Sweetie, you don't need tests to tell you whether you're worth something."

"Please, mum," Harry said, wrenching his eyes away and staring out the window again. "I really am not up for a mushy talk. I _know_ I'm worth something to you and dad." He gave the last comment a sarcastic ring and rolled his eyes at the window.

Lily sighed. "And don't you forget it."

The cab rolled to a stop and the driver turned around in his seat. He was an older man, a thick head of curly white hair shook as he spoke, like it took every muscle in his head to do so.

"Well, here we are, folks. King's Cross. Need help with the luggage?"

"No, sir. Thank you very much," Lily said, passing the man a couple long odd looking pieces of what Harry recognized as Muggle money. They both got out of the cab and Harry shooed his mother inside with Hedwig's cage while he grabbed his luggage from the trunk. 

Dripping wet, Harry joined his mother over the threshold of King's Cross and together began the now very regular routine of maneuvering through Muggles in order to casually, but determinedly, make the entrance onto Platform 9 ¾. Harry pushed his cart, with Hedwig's cage on top, while his mother walked beside him, jabbering about Muggle clothing in her soft, public voice. Harry and his mother were the same height now, something he'd been quick to point out and she'd been quick to deny. She threatened to shrink him if he kept going on about it, though a glimmer of her subtle joking glinted in her bright green eyes.

They passed through the barrier with no trouble and found themselves on the much more wizard-friendly platform. Owls hooted and cats purred and kids of all ages ran up and down the platform saying hello to their friends. Parents conversed and comforted crying children (either too young to go with their older siblings, or too scared to begin their first year) or insisted to their older children to come back and give them one last fleeting hug.

Lily put a hand on Harry's back as he stopped and looked around.

"Are Ron and Hermione meeting you before you get on the train?" Lily asked, looking around as Harry was.

"I think so," he said, not really hearing his mother. "I think..."

"Harry!" a shrill voice squealed from behind him and an even tanned face flashed in front of him before his face was covered in brown curly hair and two slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Hermione was hugging him like she hadn't seen him all summer, when, in reality, they'd seen each other only three weeks ago.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry said, spitting out pieces of her hair that got caught in his lips. Her hair smelled like Coconut and evening air. She released him and stepped away, smiling broadly. She had a look in her eye, something he'd seen this summer and wasn't quite sure what it implied. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he was almost certain as to what it meant, for, he felt as though he often had the same look in his.

Hermione looked at Lily, then, and smiled brightly. "Hello, Mrs. Prince."

"Hello, Hermione. How have you been in the weeks since I've seen you?" asked Lily, patting Hermione's shoulder. Lily looked with a slight glint of suspicion from Hermione to Harry, like she was putting pieces to a puzzle together as they stood there.

"Oh, just fine, thanks. I haven't really done anything, just caught up on some reading, you know," said Hermione, still smiling. She glanced at Harry, who caught his breath, unconsciously.

Lily rolled her eyes dramatically. "What is it these days with you children and all this reading. It's giving me a mind grain."

Harry sighed. "Don't you mean migraine?"

"Yes, whatever, darling," said Lily distractedly. She was looking past Harry towards the barrier. Two adults just walked through with a girl and three boys in tow. The three boys looked identical, down to their last freckle, except for the color of their shirts. The girl noticed Harry looking at her and waved, her face brightening and she wore a smirk, then hurriedly rushing off in another direction without a word to her parents or brothers.

Harry and Hermione left their carts by Lily and hurried to meet Ron, one of the Weasley triplets.

"Hi, guys," said Ron, stopping his cart. Hermione hugged him, too, though not with the same gusto, Harry noticed, that she'd given him. Harry and Ron shook hands. "Harry, it's been, what? Days?"

"Three, I think," said Harry with a grin. "Fred? George? How's everything?"

"Splendid, Harry," said Fred, snickering. He winked at Hermione.

"Simply marvelous," said George. He nudged Fred and they both looked further down the platform. 

For being the only triplets to ever pass through Hogwarts, Fred and George seemed to act more like twins with a brother who just happened to have their birthday. And same with Ron. The oddity of it all was that they looked like exact copies of one another, each with wavy rust-colored hair tucked around their ears, blue eyes, and freckles that seemed almost symmetrical. They were taller than Harry by an inch or so, but not as broad shouldered.

"We'll catch you later," Fred said evasively, and together, he and George pushed their way down to the other end of the train.

Ron watched his brothers walk away and shook his head. "They've been up to something all week. Loud banging in Fred's room, lot of bunched up rubbish in George's. I don't get it."

"When does anybody know what's going on with them?" Harry asked, turning back to face his friends.

Hermione laughed. "Where did Ginny run off to?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. Must've seen her friends."

Behind them, Lily and Ron's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, joined the three teenagers.

"Ready for a tough school year, kids?" asked Mrs. Weasley, a loveable woman with long red hair like her daughter's. She was a slightly overlarge woman, with the appearance of one who enjoyed the grandeur of the kitchen. Harry loved her cooking. His mother was a decent cook, but wouldn't herself concede to hold a candle to Mrs. Weasley. The two women had become friends since Harry met Ron, Fred, and George their first year and Harry could taste the improvement in his mother's cooking.

"I think so," Harry said. He tugged on the strap of his cart his mother had stationed beside him. "I'm a little nervous for the exams, but I'm glad they're at the end of the year. I feel like I'm so behind already."

"Tell me about it," said Hermione, heaving a deep sigh. "I have a horrible feeling that this year is going to be one insane week after another."

"Save Quidditch!" Harry said brightly. He high-fived Ron and they both laughed. Harry was the seeker on the Gryffindor house team and had already helped the team win two of the last three cups. He was selected as the new seeker during his second year, one of the youngest players in a hundred years. Over the last several years he saved up his money because his father told him that however much Harry had by his fifth year he would match and then put towards a new broom. Harry bought his Nimbus 2008 two weeks ago.

"Quidditch I will concede," said Ron, shaking his head. "But I prefer not to think about those tests until I have to." Ron planned to try out for the team this year, for the role of chaser, but his confidence wasn't too high. His brothers were selected as beaters in their third year and were a couple of the most brilliant players at the position.

"Now, son, that's no way to begin your year," said Mr. Weasley, the tall, bald man with a tight black suit that accented his extremely lean frame. He often appeared to Harry to look malnourished, but he ate as much as would a growing boy. It was shocking.

Ron groaned. "Dad, you know what I meant. I'm going to do my work, obviously, but stressing over that stuff is too much for me. I can't think about it. I'd go insane. Well, I'll go insane as it is if these two study as much as they let on. One long boring year for Trippy Two." Trippy Two was an expression Ron's parents used, somewhat affectionately, as a means of saying that Ron was the second triplet to _come out_ during birth.

Harry punched him on the shoulder. "Cheer up, mate. We need to get you all practiced up for try outs, eh? Think about all that depressing stuff later, alright?" And to that, Ron shrugged. "We better go, it's almost eleven."

Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. They really only did have ten minutes. "Wow, I didn't realize. Let's go then. Bye Mrs. Prince. Bye Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

"So long, Hermione, have a wonderful term," said Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley and Lily embraced her, and then their sons. Harry gave his mother an extra squeeze before waving and hurrying after his friends.

/\/\

The train was busy with students, some already in their school robes, bustling to and fro down the hallways. Harry led the way past compartments until they came to one that was nearly deserted.

"Neville!" Harry said, smiling broadly as he opened the compartment door. Neville, a straggly haired boy in his year, stood up to help tug in the luggage. He was a tall fifteen year old, and was built like the boys Harry often saw on the covers of Teen magazines at Muggle grocery stores.

"Hey guys," Neville said, good naturedly. "I expected you a long time ago."

Hermione sat herself down in the space next to Neville's vacated spot. Harry had quickly taken her things from her, like it was a second nature, and with Neville's help heaved it into the overhead compartments.

"I don't know where that old folklore comes from women talking too much," said Hermione, sighing dramatically. "You boys talk more than I ever do."

Harry and Ron laughed and looked at each other, remembering quite vividly their first encounter with Hermione. It was one they never let her live down. She talked so much their first year, both were sure they were going to lose their voices from lack of use. She attempted to deny it, but resorted to just ignoring their comments and refusing to acknowledge any hint of the conversation. She glared at them sternly and they both wiped their grins.

"We are so sorry, Hermione," said Ron, in a voice that was so sarcastic, all sincerity was lost. "We have no idea who started such an audacious tale."

"We will be sure to correct our mistakes," said Harry, in a robotic tone. 

Hermione kicked his foot, but smirked nonetheless. She picked up the magazine Neville was reading when they walked in. It was opened to a page about the Aura Sirius Black, who happened to be an old friend of Lily's.

"What's this article about, Neville?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, yeah." Neville shifted in his seat and tucked one leg under him. If it were possible, Harry thought, Neville had grown even since June. "Black caught some bloke wearing Death Eater uniforms last week, someone the auras have been looking for since he murdered that Muggle family last October, remember? Well, the Death Eater, Avery or something, I don't really remember, claims he was under the imperius curse when he murdered them. Black was enraged that the Wizen Gamot is taking his pleas into account and it should be enough that he is a Death Eater."

"Wow," said Ron, scratching his head. "They caught one of them? That should mean serious results for the Ministry, shouldn't it?"

"I don't know," said Neville. He bit his lip and looked warily from Hermione to the boys across from him. "My dad says that Lord Voldemort will kill him before he has the chance to be seriously questioned."

"Do you think they will torture him?" asked Hermione, her face contorted.

Harry scoffed. "So what if they do? He deserves it, doesn't he?" Just then, the train lurched and began to move. "It's about time. Gosh. When is the trolley coming? I'm starving."

"I want to change into my school things," said Ron, tugging at the neck of the sweater his mother knitted for him. He hated the feeling of wool on his skin, he repeatedly complained about it, anyway, and wore it only long enough for his mother to see it on him.

"We all might as well change," said Hermione, shrugging. Harry noticed her cast the most fleeting of looks at him, one of the looks he'd been receiving for some time now. He, too, consented and they all changed into their things.

When they sat back down, both Neville and Hermione were pinning something to their robes.

"I knew you two would get those!" said Harry, pointing at the badges. Hermione blushed, but Neville beamed and puffed out his chest; which was much more noticeable when he did such a thing than when Harry did.

"We're supposed to go down to the prefect carriage in five minutes," said Neville, more to Hermione than to anyone else. "I spoke with Albie Henderson, the head boy, and he said there was a little business he needed to take care of before our introductory meeting and to hold off about twenty minutes after the train got going."

"Alright," said Hermione. She shied her shoulder away from Harry's line of view so the badge wasn't completely visible.

/\/\

"I was hoping Neville would get it, and not Seamus," said Ron, moments after Neville and Hermione had left the compartment.

"What about Dean?" asked Harry. He had taken over the seat Hermione and Neville vacated, spread himself out. He yawned.

Ron let out a bark of laughter. "Right. Dean had as much likelihood of getting it as Fred or George. Or me, for that matter. Have I told you that Bill, Charlie, _and_ Percy were all prefects?"

"Yes, several times," said Harry, bored. "And I am glad that Hermione got selected. She was really the only candidate, don't you think?"

Ron snickered. "Yes, no contest."

"What was the snicker for?" Harry asked, propping himself up to look at his best friend.

Ron leaned back and crossed his arms. "I think you know."

"Know what?"

"Harry, come on. The sexual tension in here was like leather on black pavement in the middle of summer." He chuckled again. "I predict this year is the year you two finally hook up."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, sitting up. He felt his face grow hot and wondered if it really had been that obvious. He watched Ron with curiosity, hardly believing that his emotions had not flown under the radar. He wondered if Ron really was alright with his feelings for Hermione, or if he was just putting on an act.

"Harry, you are my best mate, you know that. But if you keep lying to me, I'm going to hex you!" Ron said, pulling out his wand jokingly.

The rest of the trip passed with little consequence. Before Hermione and Neville returned, the old woman pushing the trolley passed by and Harry supplied them all with enough treats to satisfy a small army, which he and Ron nearly devoured before their friends returned. Harry's grandmother, Eileen, his father's mother, had left him a substantial inheritance, having been quite the accomplished Potioneer in her day. When Harry came to think about it, he realized that his mother was very good at potion-making too. His father was the Potions' master at Hogwarts, but he'd watched his mother make their supply of medicines and concoctions that she needed around their intentionally small, three bedroom house and realized that she was quite as good as his father. It was no wonder he had a certain knack for the subject.

When the train finally came to a halt in front of the station in Hogsmead, their small band of fifth years gathered up their trunks and owls and cats and hauled them off the train.


End file.
